


L'Amitié Instantanée

by Aridette



Category: Temeraire - Naomi Novik
Genre: Age of Sail, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Canon Related
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-09
Updated: 2016-01-09
Packaged: 2018-05-12 17:12:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,456
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5674096
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aridette/pseuds/Aridette
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Temeraire hatched on board of the French schooner L'Amitiée on the way to France. Captain Beltrémieux has to face problem after problem on his journey back home. A freshly hatched dragonet does not help matters.</p>
            </blockquote>





	L'Amitié Instantanée

**Author's Note:**

  * For [KeizerHarm](https://archiveofourown.org/users/KeizerHarm/gifts).



> prompt: The French captain on the Amitié has Temeraire hatch for him, and uncomfortably realises that he just stole Napoleon’s dragon.
> 
> A/N: This prompt finally gave me the chance to write a story that is completely set on board of a ship – something I've been itching to do for a while now. Since it seemed to me that OP liked to keep things canon-compatible, I decided to try for a sort of tie-in with the book's beginning. I hope this was alright. Sorry, I kind of took the prompt an ran with it. Also sorry about any typos and other mistakes. Most likely they will be fixed eventually.  
> Details regarding the capture of L'Amitié have been taken from The London Gazette/Naval Chronicle 1805 and the Temeraire series (for the ultimate history nerd level).

The bell struck eight times – midnight, making it a whole week since he woke up to the unsettling lack of the steady gurgle that accompanied every ship in motion.

The sails flapped uselessly outside in the warm yet still night air. They would not move tonight, either. Captain Beltrémieux doused his candle. There would be time enough to read in the coming days.

Had they been held up in the doldrums on their way south, at least he would not have been aware of the urgency that made their being becalmed for any longer a most terrifying prospect. Their schedule was tight enough to begin with, only allowing for short stops along the way to stock up on fresh water or trade for some cattle or chicken if they could acquire any.  
But as it was, misfortune struck when they had cargo on board that could mean the entire ship's ruin, should it be delayed on its way to France – the egg of a dragon.

* * *

When General Ferrand had sent for him all those months ago, he had been optimistic. It was a well-known fact that he loved his country as much as any other man in the French navy and would serve her at a moment's notice. The moment seemed within his grasp when he was summoned before the governor mere days after L'Amitié had lost her former captain to malaria. Beltrémieux had seen the ship to the West Indies in the first place, but been set ashore for a few years.  
His optimism, however, faltered by the time he had read his orders a second time.  
Not because they were particularly difficult to understand. No, rather because nothing could have prepared him for being sent to coordinates at least a day off Cape Horn, if his estimations were correct, where they were to meet a Chinese vessel, which would carry further orders.  
  
“Sir, with all due respect, this must be a mistake” he had protested. It hd only earned him a raised brow. Being a general and governor, Ferrand was not used to any sort of protest that could not be quelled with swords and gunfire.  
“It is not.”  
The pause that followed had made the captain sweat nervously.  
“Last I checked we were not allied with the Chinese.” Beltrémieux had tried again.

“And last I was aware, I did not need repeat myself. You will be escorted south by the two schooners riding at anchor just outside the harbor. Once you are out of reach of the Brits and Spaniards, you will be on your own.” Ferrand had said with unmistakable finality. Then Beltrémieux had been dismissed to deal with the preparations for the mission.

* * *

The days dragged on and no wind to speak of caught their sails. Captain Beltrémieux dreaded walking amongst the crew. He was no coward, not by a long shot, but tempers were running high ever since he had to put them on rations. Just as he wondered if this should be how their journey ended, Lieutenant Dupuis joined him at the helm. His face was strangely twisted as though trying to hide some sort of pain as he tapped his hat in greeting.  
  
“More brawling below deck?” Beltrémieux asked. He wondered how the men could muster that sort of strength with the heat bearing down on the ship like this.  
“No, sir.” the other man answered dutifully. “But I do bring more bad news. Although of a different nature.”

The captain took a deep breath, stealing himself against whatever had happened now. “What is it then?”  
“The egg, Captain, the shell is hardening.”

* * *

By the time the day's last watch begun, everyone aboard had heard the news. If Captain Beltrémieux had thought the morale weakened, there were no words left to describe this new low. The news set tongues wagging when none of the officers were around to remind the crew of their duties. Within a day only few held on to the hope that they would ever make it to France alive with a freshly hatched dragonet on board. Nevertheless a makeshift harness was prepared, following the estimations the Chinese had given them. While none of the men had any experience with dragons, the harness would be necessary should they have to secure the dragon to the deck. The prospect of facing a storm that would necessitate this very action, was almost welcome in their current condition.  
  
They stayed becalmed the entire time. A few times it almost seemed as though the winds would finally pick up again, but no such luck was granted them. The sails flapped forth and back as though their effort might finally move them as the egg was carried on deck. A spot was cleared to give the dragonet space to unfurl and stretch. The crew gathered around the now fully hardened egg, its shell gleamed in the sun. Beltrémieux had heard the bosun say he at least wanted to see the beast, that would bring certain death upon them, hatch. He knew he had to put the men to work before things got even worse, but there was nothing to be done when they had already tarred the ropes, fixed their spare sails and seen to every small blemish L'Amitié might have had after her long journey.

* * *

The bell struck twice, the sun stood high in the sky, and finally the first cracks appeared. Within moments more of them spread across the porcelain-like surface like a spiderweb until the first shard broke away. More of the smaller splinters followed suit until a tiny, black talon emerged.  
  
For a moment it seemed every man on board had forgotten how to breathe at once. Until the dragonet moved more forcefully against the shell. It shook once, twice, then the shell broke open along one long crack down its front. A small, completely black hatchling sat amongst the broken remains of the egg. It stretched its wings tentatively as though to see how it would feel to no longer be confined and completely ignored the assembled crew around itself.

The men were still stunned into silence. None of them had ever seen a dragon up close, much less a dragonet. Beltrémieux was the first to find his voice again.

“Monsieur Péron, if you would be so kind as to fetch a bucket of water and some clean rags?” he said. The dragon was busy flicking off remains of the shell but could not reach all the pieces comfortably. More and more of them stuck to it's hide the more the interior's slime dried in the sun.  
“And help that poor thing, Corbière.” he ordered another crewman to work.

The man approached the dragonet cautiously, but was mostly ignored. It looked at him in passing, apparently not deeming him dangerous enough, as it took in the surroundings.  
“Careful now, man” Beltrémieux commented as the crewman kneeled down and started picking off the bits and pieces. Soon Péron joined him. The dragonet let them work it clean without visible concern.

“Thank you. That is much better.” a small, yet decidedly masculine, voice said.  
For a moment no-one in the assembled audience thought they had heard right. The men froze where they stood beside the dragonet. And for the first time the hatchling seemed to fully take in that almost a hundred men were staring at him.  
“Is something wrong?” he asked, turning around slowly to look at everyone with big blue eyes. One by one the sailors took a nervous step back under the sudden scrutiny.  
  
“No, not at all” Beltrémieux said and stepped forwards when the dragonet looked at him. “Only we did not know what to expect.”  
  
“Oh.” the dragonet said as though finally understanding the situation better. He nodded to himself before he added “It is my first hatching, too, so we shall find out together. But now I am hungry.”

Beltrémieux nodded, then waved the men who held the harness over. As gently as he could, he told the dragonet “If you would allow us to put this on you, we will have something prepared for you immediately.” The small creature eyed the leather straps curiously.

“It is only so you would not go over board if we got caught in a storm. See,” the Captain took one of the straps and showed him the metal rings that held the harness together. The soft leather was wrapped around the metal carefully, so it could not hurt the dragon's hide. “It won't hurt, I promise.”

“I suppose.” the dragonet agreed eventually.

Together, Péron, Corbière and another man helped him into the harness while Belrémieux observed the process, ready to intervene should it be necessary. The black hatchling had his eyes fixed on the captain, only shifting slightly when the buckles were adjusted. The men were reluctant to touch him at first, but their grip soon became steadier. It was quite apparent that the hatchling had no interest in harming them.

“Captain?” Lieutenant Dupuis asked between the nervous whispers that had broken out among the crew. “Shall I?”  
  
“Very well.” he replied without raising his gaze from where the last buckle was secured and the last strap fastened to a stanchion.  
  
Next to him Dupuis stood a little straighter before he bellowed “All hands dismissed! Return to your posts!” and the crowd dispersed. The crew looked equally relieved as haunted, reluctant to leave their spot, yet glad to be out of range should the dragonet think better of it.

“You are right,” the small creature said. “It does not hurt at all. I can hardly feel it.” He was still looking at Beltrémieux as though he meant to remind him of his promise of food.

“That is good to hear. Monsieur Corbiére, be so good as to notify the cook. One of the goats should suffice I believe.”  
“Aye aye, Captain” Corbiére said before he disappeared below deck to see to his task.

“Captain?” the small voice of the dragonet rose again. “Is that your name? Everyone seems to call you that.”

“Ah,” he did not know how best to explain the chain of command aboard a ship to a dragon hatchling, so instead he said “My name is Joseph Beltrémieux. I am the captain of this ship. And this is Lieutenant Dupuis, second in command.“

“Hmm” the dragonet pondered this answer for a moment. But before he could ask another question, the slaughtered goat was brought on deck in a large tub and for the next hour or so, he was happy devouring every last bit of meat. He was fast asleep before the men were even done cleaning the bloody mess he had made of his hide and the surrounding planks.

Curled up as he was against a bunch of ropes and sailcloth he did not notice the moment the wind picked up and started to move the ship for the first time in weeks.

* * *

The night air felt a little cooler even though they still had not moved much farther north. Perhaps it was the relief that played tricks on their minds collectively.

Of course the problem remained, that they had to water and feed a dragon as well as the crew, but death no longer looked quite as certain as it had a day before. Or at least not as immediate.

“Captain Beltrémieux, may I speak frankly?” Lieutenant Dupuis asked during the first watch after sunset. “You may.”  
Unceremoniously Beltrémieux put a hand on his Lieutenant's shoulder and moved him to stand by the stern lanterns with him, where they would be least likely to be overheard.  
  
“Sir, we were to deliver the egg unharmed, were we not?” Dupuis asked quietly.  
  
“We were. But there was nothing to be done about it. Even without the delay we could not have made it.”

“That much is clear now.”  
  
“All we can do is make sure the dragonet arrives in France unharmed.”  
  
“Even then we might face a court martial. Do dragons not tend to be partial to whomever they hatched for?”  
Dupuis was right. This much they knew. But did the same rules apply to Chinese dragons? Were they not bred for intelligence? Perhaps-  
  
“Perhaps he could be made to understand he is yet to meet his companion. After all not one single man looked after him so far. Should we split the duties among the crew, certainly he could not prefer one over the other?” Beltrémieux mused.

“Perhaps.”

* * *

A while later a quiet yawn announced that the dragonet was once more conscious.

“Oh.” he said, then more enthusiastically. “Oh, oh, what is this? We are moving?” The little dragon jumped upon a crate and looked over the railing, then up towards the sails. He closed his eyes for a moment, enjoying the soft breeze that came with the movement. “Is it not wonderful?” he asked a sailor who was climbing down the rigging.

“'s quite wonderful, a'right” the man said as he jumped over the dragon's makeshift lash to land back on deck. “Perhaps you Chinese dragons a' sum sort o' lucky charms. France certainly needs it against these damn'd lobsters.”

“Chinese?”

Before he could properly ask what the sailor had meant, the man was gone already.

Now more awake, the hatchling inspected the ship more closely, nosing this and that, putting his forelegs up against piles and crates to better see.

When another sailor came too close to him, he jumped at the opportunity to question the man about anything he had wondered about, even in passing. The man looked uncomfortable when Beltrémieux noticed his predicament after he himself had finished a late dinner in his cabin. He watched for another minute. It was only fair the man should suffer a little. After all he had been one of the first to predict they would all die on board anyway before they ever escaped the doldrums.

“My, my” Beltrémieux said softly as he approached the two of them, “pray do not keep Leroy from his duties any longer.”

The sailor looked glad for this chance of escape and hurried past him, muttering “Thanks, sir” in passing. Normally such a behaviour could not be tolerated, but given the situation Beltrémieux decided to let it slide this once. He would not have had time to remind the man since the dragon clearly had more questions and cared little who might answer them so long as someone did.

“Captain, why does everyone have a name but me?” he blurted out unceremoniously.

Of course he should have known the topic would come up again. “You do.” How he thought the dragon might know its own name was beyond him, but he had not even considered that he might have to tell him his name. Perhaps that explained the sometimes rather curious names some dragons seemed to have. “What was it again?” he tried to remember for a moment. The Chinese captain had made sure to pass on the most important information, amongst it the dragon's name. “Lung Tien Xiang” Beltrémieux said as best he could, the words unfamiliar on his tongue.

“Lung Tien Xiang” the dragonet repeated slowly, trying his own name. “Is that a Chinese name?”

“It is, but how do you know?”

“Oh, another sailor said I was a Chinese dragon. But you are French, are you not?” However the little creature had picked up all that in such a short amount of time, Beltrémieux would never know. But now that Lung Tien Xiang had taken an interest, it was unlikely he could get away with telling any less than the truth. He sighed, then sat on a crate next to the dragonet.

“Your egg was given to us by the Chinese. As far as I know, you are a present from their Emperor to our Emperor.” Beltrémieux tried to explain.

“As far as you know?”

“Mind you, they don't tell a man like me everything.” Beltrémieux said, a somewhat light tone to his words. It must have seemed strange to the dragonet, who had so far only seen the ship and had not yet a concept of how the rest of the world worked.

“Emperor...” Xiang muttered to himself, “Is an emperor like a captain at all?” he finally asked.

The question took Beltrémieux by surprise. He choked a little on his attempt to stifle his shocked laughter.

“You could say so.” It felt like a lie even though it could not be considered one when he added “A captain is responsible for his ship and crew, for their continued well-being and happiness. An emperor has to worry about the very same things, but for all the people of his country.”

Xiang nodded in understanding.

“That must be difficult.” he finally commented.

“I am sure it must. But Napoleon Bonaparte has seen France through a lot of trouble already. He brought peace when France was at war with itself and our lives have been better for following his path. You will see, he will be a worthy companion to you. Of that, I am sure.”

“It must be so, if you say so, Captain.” Xiang said, although somewhat subdued. A moment later his stomach rumbled. “Oh, I am hungry again.”

Thus their conversation ended for the night. Beltrémieux made sure that several crewmen tended to the dragonet at all times. Xiang did not mind it, or at the very least did not mention it yet. He went back to sleep without needing any further encouragement.

* * *

By the end of the first week after the hatching it was quite obvious that they had to change their provisioning arrangements. Some of the men now spent the days trying their luck at fishing. Although it was not a perfect solution to their shortened rations, the tunnies helped balance the crew's meals when most of the meat went into feeding the ever-growing Lung Tien Xiang. He had already more than doubled in his size and reluctantly agreed to staying on deck now, when in the first days he had liked to explore the ship more thoroughly. If only they could allow him to fly for a short while, but Beltrémieux was too anxious to permit any such thing before they reached France – better safe than sorry. For the same reason they continued to share all duties regarding the dragon between the crewmen.

Regardless of that, Xiang sought out captain Beltrémieux's company every evening after dinner. More often than not he was curious about one thing or another. Especially Bonaparte seemed to have piqued his interest. Beltrémieux told him about the man, his childhood and military career. He was a man of honour, a man who inspired loyalty, someone everyone looked up to because he had worked hard to become the leader of a nation as proud and beautiful as France.

Only after a few nights did dread begin to settle in his stomach – Xiang had developed the tendency to compare Napoleon Bonaparte to him.  
Joseph Beltrémieux was a simple man, as nondescript as the ship he captained, a navy officer in his mid-forties who never ascended to a higher rank nor wished to.  
To any man in their right mind the mere thought of comparing them was preposterous.

When he told the dragon as much, the beast looked like he smiled, if such a thing was possible, and said “If he is even half as humble as you, I will be glad to be his companion.”

Although the words put to ease his fears that Xiang would refuse Bonaparte, it still did not sit well with him that the Emperor might hear his name just a few times too many to be for his benefit.

But his worries did not end there.

The very next day the crew's haul of fish could only be considered meagre and that brought on a whole new problem.

When Beltrémieux stepped outside and joined the dragon on deck, his mood was eerily subdued and his goat, about to be taken away, only half eaten. He did not even lift his head as he was approached, but his entire body was tense.

“Are you not hungry?” Beltrémieux asked, the worry obvious in his voice. As far as he had heard, dragons were supposed to be hungry creatures until they had almost reached their adult size. While a damper to the dragon's growth-spurt would certainly be welcome, he did not think it likely after such a short time.

“I do not feel like eating when everyone else cannot have enough to eat.” Xiang murmured listlessly.

Beltrémieux sighed quietly, then took a step closer. Reluctantly he patted the dragon's head. Xiang closed his eyes and after a moment began to relax.  
“You must not endanger your own well-being like this.” he tried to argue. It would not do for the dragon to fall sick on his watch.

“But have I not already endangered everyone?” the dragon sighed. “Had I known, I would have tried not to hatch just yet. I could have waited.”

“Even though I was so very hungry.” he added as an afterthought.

“I beg you, do not worry. The worst of our journey is over and in a month we will be home for sure. The winds have been steady and strong. So there is no reason to worry anymore.” Beltrémieux hoped his words would alleviate the mood that had befallen Xiang.

The dragons remained quiet, his eyes closed.

“I am sure there will be more fish tomorrow.”

“Of course, you must be right.” Xiang said tiredly. Another minute and he had fallen asleep.

* * *

Beltrémieux walked up and down the length of his cabin. Lieutenant Dupuis stood by quietly.

“Sir?” he asked eventually.

“Yes, yes, of course.” Beltrémieux's nerves could only be described as 'frayed'. In an attempt of regaining some calm, he crossed his arms behind his back but continued in his path.

“We knew of the possibility right from the beginning and did the best we could to keep him from getting too attached to anyone.” Dupuis began.

“Still, I should not have-”

“Sir, he would either have found someone else willing to answer his questions or have gone rampant trying to.”  
Of course there had never been any indication of that sort of temper, but something like that could have been more fatal to the ship than anything else.

“But perhaps we ought have considered entertaining him another duty-” Beltrémieux blamed himself for the foolish mistake. It had become quite obvious now whose company the dragon preferred. Something that put them in quite the awkward predicament.

“He will have me hanged for this.” Beltrémieux said.

Dupuis could say nothing against that. He could have tried, of course, but feared his words would fall on deaf ears. The situation was serious, more than a little. And they were both aware of it.

The captain could only be saved, should he manage to screw a promise out of the dragon – the promise that he would forget him as soon as they reached France.  
  
"Whyever would I do that?" Xiang protested a little later. "And the Emperor shall not have me at all if he will punish you for your kindness!" he huffed and turned to stare at the sea indignantly.

"What is that?" the dragon asked a second later.

There were white sails on the horizon, growing bigger and easier to distinguish by the minute.

"English." the lookout confirmed soon after.

Beltrémieux turned towards his first lieutenant. "Do you think we can outrun them?"

Lieutenant Dupuis took the offered telescope and gave the other ship a thorough once-over.

"Under any other circumstances I should think so, but we are rather weighed down at the moment." Dupuis did not have to be any clearer about what, or rather whom, he meant.

"Then we would better clear the deck for action. Beat to quarters, if you will."

Commands were shouted and men rushed below decks to man the guns. Soon after silence fell as they waited for the British to make their first move. They had slowed down a bit but were still catching up.  
To them, L'Amitié must have looked like any other French schooner in these waters. Far from the rest of their fleet, they made an easy target. Beltrémieux doubted that any captain in their right mind would pass up on a chance for prize money or even a promotion.

"Sir, what about the dragon?"

The question brought him back to the matter at hand. Of course, should the British take notice of Lung Tien Xiang, they might opt for destruction rather than risking a fight to take the ship unharmed.

“Cover him up with old sails!” Beltrémieux ordered. Then he added in a much calmer tone “Pray, do not let them know you are here at all for as long as you can.”

“Can I not simply go aloft?” Xiang asked. There was an almost excited quality to the question. Like any other dragon, he was looking forward to the fight.

“You would make an easier target in mid-air than here on board when they do not know you are here.”

The dragon mulled this over and clearly did not agree, but he held his tongue and ducked under the sailcloths that were clumsily draped on top of him.

“They are not too heavy, are they?” Beltrémieux asked the dragon, or rather in the direction of the one eye that was just visible between the layers.

“No, I am quite alright.” Xiang said reassuringly. He laid as flat and unmoving as he could manage.

“Do not worry, I will protect this ship. I will protect you.” It was a promise he had made when he became a captain and a promise he intended to keep.

Full sails were set. If the other captain was to try and take L'Amitié and every last soul on board, at least they would not make it easier for them.

* * *

“We are too heavy to continue like this for much longer.” Dupuis said from where he stood beside the captain.  
Beltrémieux gulped. They stood no chance in a fight, but of course Lieutenant Dupuis had a point.  
  
“Throw the 18- and 6-pounders overboard.” he said. They could spare them in a battle and perhaps they would be enough to give them a slight advantage over the much better equipped British ship. Xiang's presence in the middle of the deck would have to be enough to keep the ship balanced. He did not even stir when he was told as much, although it sounded an awful lot like he had dug his talons into the planks.

L'Amitié indeed picked up speed after they had discarded the long brasses. The other ship, however, did not falter in its pursue. With every passing moment the tension grew tangibly. The bell had been struck three more times before the British caught up enough to dare an attack. A canon ball hit the waters rather too close for comfort. The flight was over.

* * *

The battle was over faster than expected. Soon the British ship drew up beside L'Amitié and sailors and officers alike poured onto their deck. As any fight in close quarters, the affair was brutal, loud and messy. Bodies, French and British alike, littered the planks. Swords clanked, shots were fired. Xiang watched as men around him fought and fell. Oh, how much he would have loved to end it, to rear and roar and make all this killing stop.

From the corner of his eye he saw Dupuis and a British officer, who pulled a pistol from his belt. Dupuis parried his attack, before he could aim with the other hand. Behind him, Beltrémieux was crossing swords with a blond man. Then everything happened too fast to comprehend.  
A shot rang, louder than any of the ones before, or so it seemed to Xiang.  
A shot rang, and Beltrémieux dropped his sword, clutching at his chest. Red spread beneath his fingers and his opponent turned around, trying to determine who had fired the shot, yelling something, something he did not understand.  
Around them was chaos, everyone was moving slower.  
As Beltrémieux went down, Xiang sprang up, freeing himself of enough of the sailcloth to see properly. He wanted to roar, desperately, but his throat felt parched and his limbs weak with shock.

“Xiang...” Beltrémieux whispered inaudibly where he laid at the feet of the British officer. With his next breath, his eyes slid closed – it was his last.  
  
Everyone was staring at Xiang, the ship rocked dangerously and threw a few men off balance. He whipped his tail and a few more went over board. But in doing so he jerked at the remaining sailcloth and got himself entangled worse.

He was furious.

How dare these men come to their ship, attack his crew and shoot his captain?

Xiang tried to free himself of the tangled mess, panic and fury steadily rising inside of him. He lashed out, uncaring if he should trample anyone in the process. The men backed away, putting as much distance between themselves and him as they could. In unison a dozen British pistols and guns were raised, pointing at him.  
He froze.

But what did it matter now? L'Amitié was lost, Beltrémieux gone!

Lieutenant Dupuis stepped in front of him, arms outstretched as if to shield him from any harm.

In a few furious strides the blond British officer stood beside Dupuis, yelling orders at the men. _“Stop it! For god's sake, put down your guns!”_ he said, but the words sounded all wrong, refusing to make any sense to the dragon. When the weapons were lowered, reluctantly at first, then defiantly, he understood.

Slowly, the man, who must be the British captain, turned to face him. He raised his arms where Xiang could see them and took a few steps towards him. Xiang backed away when the man gestured at the sailcloths that still made it impossible for him to move.

“ _Shh, I just want to help.”_ the blond captain said.

He still wanted to hurt him, to make him pay for what him and his men had done. But he found himself unable to.

The man kept talking at him, although he did not understand a word.

When as much became apparent, the man turned around and another officer joined him. The second man coughed slightly, then said in a foreign accent “Captain Laurence wishes to reassure you that he does not intend to harm you or any of the men aboard. He says, if not for the war Bonaparte began and the fighting such a thing brought with it, he would gladly avoid any bloodshed. And if you were to allow us to come closer, we would like to help you disentangle these.”

Xiang stared at them. How could they fight one moment, then say they meant no harm? And what sort of war was that, when there were only two ships as far as the eye could see?  
  
He huffed, but mustered the man in front of him.  
Up close it was quite obvious that he was much younger than Beltrémieux had been, Beltrémieux who had taken a stray shot and laid still where he had dropped.

And yet the British obviously trusted this man enough to obey him even in such a situation as had presented itself before them.

It did not sit well with him, but eventually Xiang agreed “Only him.”

* * *

What happened while the blond man moved around him carefully, trying to free him, was a blur. Xiang had calmed down a little. Most of the men had disappeared from view and so he had had a moment to think about what had happened rather than about the imminent danger he had been in.

“What is this war you were speaking of?” he asked eventually. Nobody had ever mentioned a war to him. And why the Emperor of a fine country like France should like to wage war, he did not understand in the least. The question was translated, but even then it was a moment before Captain Laurence pulled away the last bit of cloth and finally answered.

“If you were inclined to join us on our ship, I would do my best to explain it to you.”

It was not much, but it was an offer. An offer made with all the good intentions in the world if the honesty in the young captain's face was anything to go by.

Xiang blinked.

Had Beltrémieux not always told him that a man with good intentions, a strong fighter, someone who inspired loyalty, was the best he could look forward to in his companion?  
Perhaps, Xiang thought to himself, perhaps 'honesty' ought to have been one of those qualities, too.


End file.
